


Sam Gets in Trouble

by ArtemisEmrys



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Age Differences, Bee can talk, Bee's a horny little fellow, Cultural Differences, Father-figure Optimus, M/M, More excuses to write transmut, Mother hen Ratchet, PWP, Sam Transforms, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Well a little plot, Young Bumblebee, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisEmrys/pseuds/ArtemisEmrys
Summary: Sam does what he does best: Gets into trouble and talks his way out of it. Sam/Bee.





	Sam Gets in Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Stand alone Sam/Bee fic. Can be considered part of my Enemyverse (but far in the future) or not. Up to you! Just a little transmut fun to pass the time. Don't think about the logic of his transformation too hard, you'll hurt yourself. Hope you enjoy!

_BOOOOOOM!_

Almost as soon as it happened, both Bumblebee and Sam disappeared.

The other mechs on base barely had time to register the fact that the small organic creature named Sam that they had all come to love was no longer quite so organic. He stood, momentarily bathed in a bright bluish light, several feet taller than any other mech there except Optimus, and painted a lively silver-and-blue mix. No one knew what had happened, until Ratchet had broken out of his stupor, stared up at the gangling mech that was once Sam, and began to scan him. The answer to the question was simple once he thought to look for it: AllSpark energy.

The residual AllSpark energy that had resided in Sam for the past seven years had, seemingly spontaneously, transformed the 25 year old organic into a mech of Optimus-size and stature. As far as Ratchet could tell from his scans, Sam was in fine condition, his body as new as a sparkling’s, although it was that of a fully mature mech. His Spark was pulsing healthily in its chamber, and he was in no pain or discomfort from the change. It only took him twenty minutes of practice to stand and walk, if with a bit of stumbling, as he got used to his new center of gravity. He now stood at 26 feet tall with bright blue optics and a frame that any mech would envy. Suffice to say, the boy was in shock for a moment, before shrugging his armor-covered shoulders and announced that weirder things had happened to him in the past, and would likely continue to happen to him in the future. Being a super-powerful, three story tall alien robot was certainly not the worst thing he could be. He wouldn’t freak until he had real cause to. He was sure they'd find a way to fix it soon, and if not, well at least he fit in with his friends now.The other mechs had promptly turned to talk to each other about the strange events.

Bumblebee had grabbed Sam by a set of digits and whisked him away to his private hangar before the other mechs realized they were gone.

Closing and coding the door locked, Bee was immediately upon Sam, running his hands up and down the new mechs sleek armor with a look of awe in his optics. “Primus, Sam! You look great! ”

Sam chuckled lightly, exploring Bee with his new digits. It was all so _new_. He and Bee had been what he termed as ‘together’ for over five years now. He had intimate knowledge of the small yellow scout’s chassis and armor, as they spent many nights in this very hangar or in his garage exploring one another. The caresses all felt so different in his new frame, however, not to mention being larger than Bee for the first time in his life. The scout felt _small_ in his digits and almost fragile as he moaned and leaned into Sam’s touch.

“Sam…Sam! Oh, don’t stop.” Bee leaned up, pushing the taller mech until he sat on his aft on the berth, and clambered up to straddle Sam’s thighs. “Ooh. _Yes_.” He nuzzled Sam’s helm affectionately, engines practically purring as their armor scraped, shooting sparks up their relays. Bee had never felt more grateful that he had switched his vocalizer to a more mouth-like component years ago as his glossa met and wrapped around Sam’s. They both moaned incoherently, using probing digits to stroke sensitive nodes and ply behind armor plates to rub and pinch aching circuitry.

“Ah, Ah, Bee!” Sam was reeling. He hadn’t known just how sensitive Cybertronian bodies were. No wonder Bee had always been so eager to fool around any chance they got. He gasped out loud as the scout ground their chestplates together again, and then rocked his hip joints, bringing their armor covered groins into contact for the first time, “Bee!”

Sam continued to moan into Bee’s mouth, plundering it with his slick glossa, as he felt the small scout reaching out with one set of digits to trace a transformation seam. He almost bucked the scout off at the sensation when the smaller digits managed to get almost fully inside his armor, wiggling and pinching until Sam fell back on the berth, just a large pool of melted mech.

Sam heard Bee’s light laugh as he followed him down, then, sliding down his frame so that every point of contact possible grated and rubbed, slid his glossa around the seams of Sam’s so far forgotten interface panel.

Sam gasped at the sharp increase in pleasure from that area and writhed, “Bee! What? Oh, god, Bee! Oh, oh.” Sam reached down and held the smaller mech’s helm as he teased him, gently running both digits and glossa over the joints in Sam’s thighs, only to slowly move back up to his panel again and nip him lightly.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this to you. Now I finally can. Open up for me, Sam.” He whispered, continuing to lick him wetly. Sam shuddered, and moaned.

“I…I don’t know- OH! God! I don’t know how!” Sam’s desperate voice crackled in his vocalizer, and he pleaded for Bee not to stop.

Bee moaned and reached his digits into the small seam near Sam’s interface, catching the hidden manual release, and tugging. Sam groaned as the covering slid back with a click, and his hot valve was suddenly exposed to the cool air of the hangar. Lubricants leaked onto the berth as Bee bent and nuzzled his helm into that heat, scenting at him and continuing to praise him with glossa and digits. Sam spike, fully pressurized, popped from its casing as well, and Bee trailed the digits of one hand up it gently, spreading Sam’s own lubricants up and down his length.

Sam keened, arching his back and trying to get Bee as close as possible as the smaller mech thrust his glossa in and out of his valve with force, all the while moaning and sending wonderful vibrations into Sam’s frame. The smaller mech traced every crevice he could find until Sam almost started begging him to stop: It was just too much!

Sam cried out desperately when Bumblebee suddenly pulled away from him and clambered back up his frame to sit on his chest.

“Sam?” He rubbed the dazed mech’s cheek to get his attention, “Sam, please, will you interface with me?”

It took a minute, but Sam finally stopped shaking and heard what the small scout was asking. He leaned up to kiss Bee again, bringing his hands up to circle his waist and caressing the armor and joints he found there.

“Gods, yes, Bee: Wasn’t that what we were just doing?” He couldn’t stop kissing and nuzzling at the mewling scout, nipping at his neck cables when he released his lips so Bee could answer.

“ _Yes_ … I mean, no. I want to fully interface with you. I want you to…” The smaller mech gasped as Sam hiked him in closer, grinding his spike into Bee’s closed panel and aft, smearing the lubricants that were already leaking there, “ _Primus! Sa-aam!_ I want you to _spike me!_ Connect with me fully!”

Sam hissed and nodded enthusiastically “Oh, man, Bee. I would love that.” He laved playfully at Bee’s audio receptors with his slick glossa, “How-how do we start all that?”

“I’ll show you,” he hesitated, and then added softly, “This is my first time, too.”

Sam froze in shock, staring at the small scout who had slid down to straddle his thighs again with wide optics, “Your-your first?! But… how? You’re like…. Like a hundred thousand years old!”

Bumblebee felt his faceplates heat up and shot the larger mech a pouting glare, “That’s not that old to _us_ , Sam.”

“Yeah, but still…”

“Do you want to do this or not, Sam?” Bee asked crossly, reaching down to trail one set of digits playfully down the large spike he was pressed against.

Sam shivered and regarded the smaller mech contritely, “Of course I do. I’m sorry for teasing you.”

Bee just hummed and nodded his helm, increasing the speed and pressure of his strokes. Sam tried his hardest not to buck the scout off, but it was difficult. Bee had him writhing on the berth in no time. Suddenly, there was a soft but audible click and the hot digits that had been caressing his Spike disappeared to land on his hips. Sam cried out at the loss, optics un-shuttering quickly as he reached out to bring some part of Bee back into contact with his pulsing length.

He froze again as he felt a clinging heat begin to slide down his spike as Bee lowered himself cautiously. With an incoherent groan, he caught Bee’s hips in his own digits and began to help him lower himself down slowly. The little scout was making little gasping sounds in his vents, which made Sam ache to just arch up into his friend in one smooth stroke, but he resisted, not wanting to hurt the other mech.

“Ah-Sam! Oh, almost…” Bee’s valve clenched around him and Sam almost lost it right there. He ground his denta plates hard against each other to calm himself. After what felt like forever, Bee stopped all together and Sam felt a slight resistance against his spike.

“Sam…” Bee shuddered minutely, harsh huffs of air coming from his vents, “Sam,” he tried again, “you have to, ah, to push through the barrier. Oh, Primus, Sam.”

Barrier? What was Bee talking about? Sam hesitated, and his mind flew back to six-grade sex-ed and he gasped. Damn, this really was Bee’s first time, wasn’t it? He wondered if he’d have to go through the same thing if he ever decided to…? But, now wasn’t the time to think of that. Taking a firmer grip on the smaller mech’s hips, he looked into the other’s optics, and when Bee nodded, applied slightly more pressure. For a minute, he thought he wasn’t going to get through, when suddenly Bee was sitting fully on his hips with a sharp gasp. Sam moaned as that tight heat completely engulfed him, but held himself still as Bee quaked and gasped and tried to get use to him.

“Sam…” Bee eventually looked down at him, a warm smile on his lips, “Move!”

And so Sam did. Using his stronger arms to create leverage, he held Bee slightly aloft as he first slid his spike slowly, excruciatingly slowly, out of Bee’s valve, then moved back in just as slowly. Bee writhed in his hands, seemingly trying to get both closer to Sam and further away as the larger mech’s spike scraped over every sensor his valve had. Sam repeated this slow move four more times, until the scout was nothing but a mewling mess above him, then decided to pick up the pace.

Angling Bee’s smooth hips to a better position, he waited until the scout placed his digits on his broad chestplates before swiftly pulling himself out as far as he could and slamming back in with enough force to jolt the other mech over and over.

Sa-aam! Ah, ah, ah! Please, oh! Primus, don’t stop!” Both Sam and Bee cried out with each thrust. Sam couldn’t believe how good this felt, how tight Bee was around him. Every little noise that spilled from Bee’s stuttering vocalizer urged Sam on further. Bee was giving as good as he got, practically slamming himself down on the larger mech and squeezing his valve tight over the larger spike with every upwards thrust.

“J-jesus, Bee! Ooh, man, oh man, oh man, oh man.” Sam knew he wouldn’t last much longer, and if the new influx of lubricants dripping down his frame from Bee’s leaking valve was any indication, neither could Bee. With a low growl, Sam stilled his hips and scooted back on the berth until he was in a seated position, pulling the gasping scout with him. Allowing the smaller mech to lock his legs, he grabbed Bee’s hips and moved into him with harsh, sharp jerks of his hips.

Bee keened, helm flung back as he clung to Sam’s shoulderplates, then he leaned forward and roughly nuzzled the cabling he found there, unable to do more than whimper in pleasure.

“S-Sam, I, oh Primus! I’m going to!” was all the warning Sam got before Bee froze, then bucked wildly against his chest and groin, his valve tightening almost impossibly around Sam’s spike, clenching and unclenching in time with his moans and cries.

Sam felt his own overload approach and crash over him in waves. Thrusting forward once, twice, three times more he held himself inside Bee and buried his face in his friend’s shoulder as he gasped and moaned, “Bee…, gods, Bee!”

There was a moment of near silence, the only sounds in the hangar were their labored breaths and the whir of their cooling fans as their frames tried to calm down. Sam leant back against the back of the berth with a groan, and Bee slumped on top of him, strained leg struts unlocking as he sat on Sam’s lap.

“Wow.”

Sam snorted lightly, but was in complete agreement with the whispered statement. “Yeah.”

Sam wrapped his arms around the smaller mech, tugging him close, and sliding down until he was lying on his back with Bee on his chest. The scout gave a gasp as Sam’s depressurized spike slid out of him and back into his own interface panel. Sam caressed Bee’s door-wings and placed soft kisses on any part of the mech’s helm that he could reach.

Bee purred, snuggling down and wrapping himself around the large chest, already slipping towards recharge, with Sam right behind him.

“Love you, Bee.” Sam whispered.

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Sam hummed and was just on the edge of full recharge when Bee shifted slightly, looked up at him, and queried, “So, my turn next?” Sam could only chuckle.

 

Ratchet was on patrol. He always got put on night shift when it was least likely that anyone would need real medical help unless there was a dire emergency. Tonight, as he wandered, checking gates and peering suspiciously out into the desert, his mind was on the events that occurred a week ago, right in the very spot he was standing. Looking down at the barren patch of dirt at the center of the Diego Garcia base, he pondered.

He still couldn’t figure out how the AllSpark had managed to change Sam into a mech after all these years. He supposed he should just term it a miracle and ‘call it a day,’ as the humans would say. Nah, that wasn't in his programming. He'd keep researching it until the end of time.

Making one last round before heading towards the gatehouse, he paused as a familiar noise reached his audios from the hangar just to his left. He recognized it as Sam and Bee’s shared quarters, but the sound he was hearing confused him. It was distinctly the clicking and mewling of a smaller mech trying to induce interface protocols with a larger mech.

That the noise was coming from the younglings’ quarters was cause for alarm.

Treading lightly, he peered into the dusty skylight at the top of the hangar and almost jumped back in shock. Sam was seated on the berth, smirking, as Bumblebee wove around him, caressing his armor and cooing lowly. As he watched, Sam reached out and pulled the smaller mech closer, glossa flicking out, first pressing into Bee’s neck cabling, then moving to twine with Bee’s own. Bee only tried to move closer, cambering up into the larger mech’s lap with a purr.

Ratchet had been aware of the growing relationship that Sam and Bee shared while the larger mech had still been a small organic. Ratchet had not interfered, realizing that with the size difference, nothing _too_ untoward could really be happening between the two. He also knew how lonely Bee was at most times, being the only youngling, and was glad the he had someone to care for him and to care for.

But seeing this, Ratchet realized he should have spoken to both mechs as soon as Sam’s transformation had taken place. Even now, however, he was reluctant to interrupt them. They seemed to be just fooling around, at any rate; nothing serious. Younglings will be younglings, after all. Ratchet was about to turn around and walk away, resolved to have ‘the talk’ with both mechs the next day, when the tell-tale click of interface panels opening sounded even through the glass. He whirled around again and gazed down with shock at the two mechs obviously preparing to ‘get down with it,’ as the humans would put it.

Sprinting to the front of the hangar, Ratchet quickly entered his override codes and pushed the door up with force.

“Samuel James Witwicky! _What in Primus’ Name do you think you are doing?!”_

All action on the far side of the hangar ceased, then started up again suddenly as both mechs squawked and shot up, tumbling off the raised berth into a pile of limbs and armor on the floor. Bee was the first to stand, stuttering in outrage and quickly shutting his open panels as he stalked over to Ratchet angrily, obviously embarrassed.

“Ratchet! What is the meaning of this? Don’t you know how to comm. before you enter another mech’s quarters?” Bee growled, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff of irritation. It had just been getting _good,_ too.

“Hush you!” Ratchet growled, pointing a digit in his faceplates, before dropping it and prowling towards Sam, who was still seated on the floor. With a low growl, he leant down and pulled the confused mech up by his shoulder joint and shook him lightly. “And you! Just what were you planning to do with a _sparkling_?”

Sam gasped, and Bee rushed over, furious. “A _sparkling_?! I haven’t been young enough to be called sparkling for nearly an orn, Ratchet!”

“Barely enough time to be called youngling!”

Bee growled and opened his mouth to retort, when Sam began weakly, “Um…sorry? I don’t understand…?”

Ratchet snorted, “Oh, _sure_ you don’t! Sam, I am disappointed in you! How could you try to take advantage of one so young?”

“Young? But he’s thousands of years older than me, maybe more! If anything, you have it backwards! No one ever said anything to me about him being a _sparkling_!”

“That’s because I am not a sparkling!” Bee huffed.

Ratchet had heard enough. Grabbing one of each mech’s arm in his digits, he dragged them, protesting, across the base to Optimus’s hangar door. With a growl, he commed for entrance, and was immediately granted it, entering to see a groggy-looking Prime stumbling from the back room. He immediately perked up when he saw the scowls on Ratchet and Bee’s faceplates, and the terminally confused look on Sam’s.

“What is going on, Ratchet? Is someone hurt?” Optimus strode forward, peering down at the others with concern.

“No, Prime. I just caught this one,” he snarled, pushing Sam forward to stand before Optimus, “trying to interface our resident youngling. He claims to have _no idea_ what’s going on.”

“Optimus-!” Bee started, but a raised hand from his Prime silenced him. He stood fuming.

“Is this true, Sam?” Optimus peered into the slender mech’s optics, searching.

“Y-yes,” Sam stuttered, “But I swear, I had no idea I was doing something wrong! Bee and I have been, er, well… ‘dating’ for years now! You all know that!”

Ratchet cut in with a snort before Optimus could respond, “A likely story! Dating is one thing, interfacing is a _whole new_ bucket of bolts, and Bumblebee is completely too young to be engaging in such activities! Thank the Pit I caught you before you two got any farther!”

The sudden silence was stark. Ratchet looked at the now guilty-looking faceplates of the two younger mechs with growing horror, “Primus save us, you **_didn’t_**.”

“Well…” Sam started.

“It was just…” Bee tried to cut in.

“Primus, _when_?! You’ve only been a mech for a _week_ , Sam? A week! You’ve been learning to use your systems for hours upon hours every day! Primus above, when did you have the _time_?!”

Flustered, Sam tried in his usual way to explain, by spluttering out everything all at once in a tangled mess, “It was only once! Right after I got turned, and we went back to Bee’s. Ratchet, I swear to you I had no idea! We’ve been doing stuff like this ever since Bee showed me his interface stuff three years ago, and I-!”

Bee groaned as Ratchet twirled towards him and gasped, “Three years! You’ve been hiding this for that long?!” His fury suddenly transformed into a remorseful look, “Bee, why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you just _tell_ someone?”

“Because, I knew you’d react in exactly this way!” He shouted, waving his arms around, “But I’m _not_ a sparkling, and I chose to do this on my own. Maybe I should have explained to Sam better the age difference between him and me, but it started back when he was still an organic and age didn’t seem to matter as much. At any rate, Sam has no fault in any of this.” He glared at Ratchet, "If I'm old enough to fight in a war, I'm old enough to interface with who I please!"

Ratchet gaped at him in shock.

Optimus, having heard enough, placed a placating hand on his scowling medic’s shoulderplates and spoke, “Ratchet, you must calm down.” He sighed and rubbed a set of digits over his weary face. “I believe, at least, that Sam had no intentions of doing any wrong by Bumblebee. He obviously needs to upload more programs focusing on Cybertronian culture.”

Sam raised a hand, “Excuse me? I don’t understand this thing about ‘age difference.’ You’re all acting like I’m the one that’s thousands of years older than Bee, and not the other way around.”

There was a beat of silence before Ratchet ground out a reply, “Sam, while technically Bee will always be older than you in Earth years, as a human, you aged at a higher rate and matured much more quickly than him.  At 25, you are closer to someone like Mirage or the Twins in age, while Bee is still the age he was when you first met, approximately 16 in human years. Now that you have a Cybertronian body, you will most likely grow at a normal Cybertronian rate. However, the age gap, and even your frame type, shows how far from Bumblebee you have matured.”

Sam could only gape in shock. He was the equivalent of a whole ten years older than Bee in this body? He had never expected that. But after a while he shook his helm and stood straight for the first time, finally understanding what was going on. None of that really mattered in the long run.

“Ratchet… thank you for explaining it to me, and I hope you believe me when I tell you I meant no harm to Bee,” At Ratchet’s reluctant nod, he went on. “However, you’ve said, and Bee’s said, that he isn’t a sparkling anymore, correct?”

Optimus cut in, nodding, before the other two could start another argument, “That is correct, Sam. What is your point?”

“Well then, I don’t think it’s fair for you to dictate what we do in our own private time.” He stepped closer to Bee and slung an arm around his door-wings, “I love Bee, and he loves me.” Bee nodded enthusiastically. “We didn’t plan for me becoming a mech, and it’s not either of our faults that I aged differently as a human. If he’s not a sparkling, doesn’t he have the right to choose who to be with and what to do with his own body?”

Optimus pondered this for a moment before nodding, a small smile playing about his lips, “That is completely correct, Sam. It would be unfair of us to split you two up after so long, simply because we are uncomfortable with the new situation. I am proud of your fair insight, Sam. ”

“But, Prime-!”

Optimus shook his helm, “Ratchet, the young one’s are right this time. Would you want to be the cause of so much unhappiness between them?” Ratchet visibly wilted, shaking his helm. “I know it is only out of care for them both that you protest this, Ratchet, but both Bee and Sam have proven themselves over and over to be far more mature than we give them credit for. We cannot suppress their right to love one another.”

Bee moved over to Ratchet, and Sam followed, both placing the agitated mech in a light embrace. Bee smiled up at him, “I’m sorry I got so angry, Ratchet. I was scared that you’d try to take Sam away from me. He means everything to me. Please try to understand.”

Ratchet looked at Sam, who simply nodded, pulling the smaller scout closer protectively. The medic huffed and pried himself out of the two younglings’ embrace. “Oh, all right! But, I swear to Primus, first thing in the morning you both better be in my med-bay for a crash course in Cybertronian sexuality, or so help me!”

Both mechs felt their faceplates flush, but nodded, and watched as the medic stomped out of the hangar, muttering crossly about younglings growing up too fast and to-scale models of interface equipment. The three mechs left in the room all shot each other a slightly scared look, before they all broke out in grins.

Optimus placed a hand on both their shoulderplates and squeezed, “All right, you two. Go and enjoy your evening. I think you both deserve some alone time after that ordeal.” The two younger mechs nodded, smiling, and started to turn away, “From this point onwards, however, always know that you can talk to me, or any of us, including Ratchet, about anything. There is no need to hide, even from Ratchet, even if he is a cranky aft.” He shot Bee a stern look, and the small scout had the wherewithal to look at least a little contrite.

Waving the two mechs off, Optimus watched them flee his hangar, hand-in-hand, with a small smile on his face. Heading to go back to his own berth, he was happy the two had found love in one another. Now, if only his own mate would be half as pliable this cycle. Maybe some high-grade would sway the medic towards his point of view and smooth his no-doubt ruffled armor …

 

 

Sam giggled as Bee hurriedly closed and locked the hangar door, before turning and practically tackling Sam into the berth. He guffawed as the smaller mech straddled him again, right where he left off earlier, and pinned him with a mock glare.

“You and your big mouth! You didn’t have to go and spill everything!” He leaned and kissed Sam lightly, who only grinned and shrugged.

“You know how I get when I get nervous, Bee! Plus, isn’t it good to have it all out in the air now and over with? At least we won’t be getting into anymore trouble…” Sam muttered crossly, “And if someone had explained everything to me in the _first place_ …”

“Yeah, well… you know now.”

Sam snorted, “No more secrets.” He placed his digits on the back of Bee’s helm and pulled him down for another slow kiss.

“No more secrets.” Bee agreed. Suddenly, he pulled back with an evil looking smirk on his faceplates. Sam was reminded disturbingly of Starscream at his worst. “But, I didn’t say anything about no  _surprises_. I’ve got a few tricks I’ve been wanting to try out.” He leaned forward with a leer, “And it’s _so_ my turn.”

Sam could only squeak as he was attacked.

Fin.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I’ll write a sequel… ^.^ Sam deserves his turn after all.


End file.
